


Delicate Adjustments

by Jikatabi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal Fingering, F/M, Flexibility, Forced Orgasm, Non-Consensual, Oral Sex, Rape to Teach a Lesson, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jikatabi/pseuds/Jikatabi
Summary: Lilia has new, traditional lessons for Yuri to teach him even more about beauty and fortitude. Yuri doesn't want them - but he's already promised to give everything, body and soul, if it will help him win.





	Delicate Adjustments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecelestialcow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecelestialcow/gifts).



Yuri usually got one day off from practice a week, which was fine with him. Now that he was working with Lilia, though, there were no days off from stretching. He didn't have a choice about being lazy; she always hunted him down at the same time to go make him do endless splits and backbends and anything else she deemed necessary.

Today, however, they'd already done their flexibility work, and he didn't understand why she'd called him over for another lesson. In her bedroom, too. They usually worked in the living room, where Yakov occasionally glanced at them over a cup of coffee or Potya would come to see what interesting thing they were doing. But the season was about to start, so there must have been something else she wanted to do to make sure he was prepared.

"These lessons are very different from the others you've had," she said. "However, they are a long tradition in our fields, and will give you another perspective on beauty and strength."

"Okay," he said. She was staring at him intently, and he didn't know why. Lilia was always intense, but this was different.

"First," she said, "you will strip."

He blinked at her a few times, not sure if he'd heard correctly and trying to figure out what she'd _actually_ said, and when she raised an eyebrow, he went, " _What_?"

"Strip," she repeated. "All of your clothes."

"What? Why?"

"There is plenty of beauty in our natural forms," she said. "And there should be no shame in seeing it."

That... didn't sound that weird. He'd spent plenty of time naked around Victor and Yuuri in the Hasetsu baths, not to mention all the locker room showers he'd been in. And people didn't wear clothes in saunas. It sounded like the kind of philosophy she might have.

Whatever. Lilia was a good coach – she'd taught world-famous dancers, and she'd helped make Victor a gold medalist at the Olympics when he was only seventeen. Yuri wanted to be the gold medalist at the Olympics, and he was going to be even younger than Victor. He could stand around naked and listen to a lecture if that was what it took.

He peeled his t-shirt off and dropped it on the floor, then started to go for his shorts. "Pick that up," Lilia demanded. "We treat ourselves with respect at all times, and that includes our belongings. You may set it there."

Yuri grumbled but picked the shirt up, sloppily folded it (at least Lilia didn't come after him again for not doing it properly), and put it down on her dresser. Then his shorts, and then after a moment of hesitation, his underwear, too.

"Good," said Lilia. It wasn't a word she said often, so that was kind of nice to hear.

She had him do a few of the stretches again in front of her mirror, pointing out the lines of his muscles. Everything was even more revealed like this than it was in dancewear, and Yuri wondered if that was all there was to this lesson. It felt weird doing the stretches without any clothing, but sure, he could see his leg muscles working hard when he pulled his foot up to his head. The move was easier than it had been at the start of the summer, though Lilia said he could still improve.

Then she sat him down on the bed and sat beside him. Yuri had started to relax a little, but this made him nervous again, though he didn't know why. It was just Lilia. It was just a lesson. Maybe a strange one, but she clearly thought it was going to be helpful for him.

"I am going to remove my clothes," she announced, looking straight at him.  
  
"What?" He had no desire to see her naked. And this wasn't a sauna. Why were they doing this?

She continued, as though he had said nothing and was sitting quietly, not edging away from her. (There wasn't very far to go, though.) "Society teaches that only certain kinds of bodies are allowed to be beautiful, and that beauty necessarily correlates with sexuality. Do you understand, Yura?"

What the fuck did this have to do with skating?

Lilia was waiting for him to respond. "So this is, like, about learning to, uh." How would she put it? Yuri rummaged around his brain to mash some Lilia-isms together. "Appreciate the intrinsic beauty of various physical bodies without letting societal standards get in the way of our understanding of what we actually see?"

He felt like he was trying to bullshit for a literature class where he hadn't read the book, but she seemed kind of impressed, thankfully. "More or less," she said, and she reached for her shirt.

Lilia, of course, folded everything neatly and precisely as she set her clothes aside. Yuri kept looking away from her, cheeks burning, then glancing back; she didn't tell him to watch or anything, just kept undressing like he wasn't there.

Finally, she put the last garment to the side and knelt on the bed, facing him. "What are your impressions? You may be honest."

If he was honest, he might have said _you have boobs_ (he tried not to look at them too much, but they were _right there_ ) or _you're probably kind of hot as far as old ladies go, I guess, for people who are into that_. Instead, he said, "You keep yourself in shape."

"Yes, although I'm sure you already knew that. Anything else?"

"Uh... you still look like a dancer? I mean, you've got the, um, shape." Despite the length of time since her retirement, and all the signs of the decades on her body, the impression was there. Her waist was thin, with the sort of sweep toward her hips and shoulders that he'd seen on lots of pictures of dancers, with a chest that wasn't too full. "It's symmetrical?"

Lilia's mouth twitched up to the side. "I can see you are making an effort," she said. She pulled him closer by his arm as she leaned back against the wall, then used the grip to slide his hand onto her shoulder. He tried to pull away, heart pounding.

"Lilia?"

"Touch," she said, a simple command, and she started to touch him. They were light touches, brushing the ends of his hair, tracing his collarbone. This was – he really didn't get this. "Touch," she said again, harsher, and reluctantly, he drew his hand down.

He kept it to her shoulders, then her sternum, not looking too hard, and stalled out around her waist. She sure did have a waist. Her belly button was an innie. Yuri didn't know where else to look. Definitely not above it or at the triangle of dark curls below it. Seriously, _what_ was this lesson supposed to be about? He wanted to leave.

"Here." Lilia took his hand again and let him let go. Then she started to open her legs, and oh no, Yuri was done with – he didn't know what this was.

He jerked back. "What the hell is—"

"Language," Lilia snapped, and he was trained by now to snap his mouth shut at that.

Only for a moment, though. "What does this have to do with skating?" he demanded, trying to pull away again. "Or even all that stuff a minute ago about appreciating beauty and whatever?" For an old woman, Lilia wasn't weak at all; her grip was too strong to break easily.

"As I said a few minutes ago," said Lilia, "it will help you to have a fuller understanding of beauty, strength, and dedication. These are traditional lessons. Surely you've heard of them before?"

Yuri had – had heard _rumors_ of the kinds of traditions that went around. He'd been hoping he wouldn't be subject to them. As far as he could tell, this wasn't going to help him at all.

"Did you not," Lilia said, quietly, "say something about dedicating even your body and soul to me in exchange for training?"

Yuri swallowed. Yeah, something like that. He hadn't thought it was meant _literally_.

Her eyes bored into him. Expectant. Leaving suddenly didn't feel like an option. If he didn't do this – was that going to annoy her? She wasn't going to stop teaching him over something like this, was she? He needed every advantage he could get. He'd seen that at the ice show, when Yuuri had outskated him. Yuri needed stamina, needed presentation – Lilia had already helped him a lot with how to move better over just the summer.

Lilia must have seen his hesitation, because she touched his hair again, then gripped it and shoved his head down with such force that he found himself with his chest on the bed. "Look, Yura," she murmured.

Yuri looked. He hadn't exactly been this up close and personal with a lot of people's bits in his life so far, and his first impression was just of lines and flesh, before he was able to figure out what he was seeing.

She was still holding him by the hair, and after a minute where he did nothing but stare, trying to figure out what was going on and how he could get out of it, she pulled his head closer. "You will use your tongue," she said. "I will help you."

He looked up at her, disbelieving. "Is this a real tradition?" he demanded. Rumors, yeah, but nobody had sat him down and told him that these things happened. There were all kinds of stupid stories passed around. Nobody really got glass in their skates, after all.

"Yes, it is," she said, her voice perfectly even and sure. "We are doing this because I think it will be beneficial for you in learning allure and charm and patience. These are things you are still lacking, and they are things necessary for you as a skater."

He grit his teeth, but that kind of made sense. Sort of. Although how he was supposed to translate this to skating, he had no idea. Maybe there would be lessons for that, too. God. This situation was so weird.

She tugged on his hair again, and fuck. He had to do this, didn't he?

How hard could it be? Sure, Lilia would be picky, but Yuri was a fast learner. He stuck his tongue out and licked somewhere near the top, and her body twitched.

"Lower," Lilia said, "and more gently – yes, that's better."

Lilia had an awful lot of instructions. Lick there more, now there, now there. Harder, softer, _harder_ , now stop. The barrage of demands was interspersed with more of Lilia's musings on beauty and whatever, the kind that Yuri sometimes had to tune out of in the middle of their lessons.

It was strange, doing this. Yuri had a vague idea of how girls worked, but it was harder to tell what he should do in reality, especially when Lilia kept dragging him around. Sometimes she reacted, a hitch in her breath, a twist of her hips, but other times she simply sat there as he tried to make his tongue work over her clit or down the lips the right way.

His tongue got tired quickly, and she didn't seem like she was getting any wetter. What else was he supposed to do? Yuri propped himself up enough to get one of his hands out from under him so it could help out. While she didn't tell him to stop, he didn't know exactly what to do with it, either, other than touching places until she seemed to like it. Did he have to put them inside of her? He really didn't want to. This was weird enough.

He found her clit again and started to suck, since his tongue needed a break, and her hand twisted painfully in his hair. "Stay there," she told him. "Do it with more force."

So he sucked harder, until his mouth started to hurt from that as well, and he needed to take a few breaths. Lilia didn't let up on her grip at all, though, so he had to keep his face right where it was, and great, now his neck was getting a crick in it. He felt exposed half lying on the bed like this, too, even though nobody else was in the room and Lilia had already seen every inch of him.

"Again," Lilia said, and oh god finally her voice sounded a little different. Still commanding, but also with just a hint of breathiness. Maybe he was getting somewhere here. Yuri put his head back down and went to work, hard enough that Lilia had to tell him to slow down again. He just wanted this to be _over_. It sucked and he hated not knowing what he was doing and sitting with his limbs folded like this was making them stiff.

He found something of a rhythm that didn't make her complain too much, and she did kind of start to get wetter. Not just spit, something slicker that made his fingers run over her more easily. Lilia made a faint noise and moved her hand to the back of his head, no longer pulling so hard, and pressed his face even closer to her, close enough that Yuri had no choice but to shut his eyes and keep going.

When she came, it was a quiet thing, not very dramatic. Some shaking, more wetness on his fingers, her nails scratching at his scalp. Some moments later, she let him go, and Yuri sprang up and away from her on the bed. He wiped his mouth before he considered whether he should've done that in front of her, but thankfully her eyes were still closed.

"I see," she said, in the middle of catching her breath, "that we have some work to do."

Yuri wiped his mouth again, and his cheeks for good measure. He didn't want to do this again. Was she going to drag him here every weekend for these stupid fake lessons? Was it going to just be this, or would she make him do other things, too? He wasn't sure what he was going to do, if she did. He couldn't just let her do anything she wanted in the name of making him a better skater – he needed her help, but there were limits.

This... should have been over that limit. Yuri chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling odd.

After that, she had them both get dressed, and then she opened the door and showed him out. A couple of hours later, they were eating dinner. She didn't look at him any differently; the next day, in the studio, she didn't touch him any differently, either. Yuri didn't feel like he'd learned anything, but now that they were past it, things were oddly normal. It was like nothing had happened at all.

\---

The lessons didn't stop after the first. Yuri started to feel an unfamiliar anxiety on the evenings of his days off, waiting to see if she would show up with her expectant look and herd him to her bedroom.

Each time, it seemed to be the same thing as the first. Sometimes she had him kneel off the side of the bed, and sometimes on it, but that was about the only difference.

Yuri hated those hours, and not just because of what she made him do. The thing about Lilia was that her standards were so high that if Yuri had been the wrong kind of person, he could have started to think he was bad at everything. But he already knew he was good at skating, and that he was flexible even compared to most of the other men in skating. It was just that Lilia could see more in him, and she wanted him to show that.

But Yuri was pretty sure that he was, in fact, bad at getting her off. He was better, after the first few times, but it always took forever. It felt like forever, and when he checked the time afterward, it had taken a ton of time, too. Improvement did not come immediately, though he would have been happy to be able to get it over with a lot faster.

Still, Lilia kept calling him. And the weirdest thing – in this whole unbelievable situation – was that he thought it might be _working_.

At his first GP event as a senior, he won silver. (Stupid fucking JJ took gold.) His PCS were higher than they'd ever been at an international competition before. At the banquet, afterward, one of the judges commented that his poise had improved since junior Worlds.

Sure, there had been all of that practice, the hours in the studio, practicing things in his room when he needed a break from homework, but... what if Lilia was _right_ about this stupid tradition?

So he kept following her to her bedroom. And his PCS were higher again at Rostelecom, and he managed to backload more of his jumps, even with _fucking JJ_ getting more favors from the judges.

Right before they left for the GPF, he kicked up more of a fuss than usual when Lilia came for him. He wanted to rest, not go through the tedious affair right before the competition. It took a sharp reminder of the purpose of their – lessons, they were still calling them lessons – and some glares from her to make him drop his phone and go with her.

"This time, I think we will do something a little different," she said, once his clothes were all off – she kept hers on, but sometimes she did that. Made him strip and only took off her underwear. Yuri still didn't know which option was less worse.

"Different?" At least he was starting to kind of get the hang of using his mouth on her. He was wary of what 'different' could be.

She put him through a few stretches – that wasn't unusual – and gestured him over to the bed – also normal. This time, though she pushed him onto his back and sat next to him. "Today, we'll do a lesson about strength," she said. "And about your body."

Yuri frowned. Was she going to jerk him off or something? He couldn't imagine her flipping the roles and going down on him.

But she didn't shift down his body; she started to touch him. The dip above his collar, first, and then her fingers fanned up across his neck, then traced down his arms. She inspected his wrists, spindly things that Yuri thought looked too delicate, before going back to his chest. "You still have growing to do," she observed. "In many ways. We still need to work on your artistry, as well as your comportment—"

"My what?"

"Your bearing and behavior. Don't interrupt – it's rude. But as you insist on taxing your stamina to your very limit with your new jump layout, I think today we shall work with your body."

That _still_ didn't answer the question of what they were going to do. Yuri stared at her decorated ceiling and shivered when her fingers brushed across his nipples, lingering there for a minute before she fit her hand into his waist. Then lower. Lower. Lower.

She skipped over his cock, to Yuri's relief, and wrapped her fingers around his thigh instead, her grip firm. Yuri didn't know what she was looking for, but after a few moments she tugged it to the side. He got what she meant. He managed to budge his legs apart a few centimeters, then a few more when she pulled again. It was hard to make them just _open_ , despite all the other things he could make his body do.

"Hm," went Lilia, and he readied for more commands or an unhappy remark. To his surprise, though, she leaned over him and picked something small up from her bedside table. "Roll to your side," she said.

That was easy enough. He was used to having Lilia behind him, if not like this, correcting him. She picked up his thigh again and pulled it up toward his shoulder, then encouraged him to pull his foot up, too, in the familiar stretch. It was a little easier without gravity fighting him, though she did have to tell him to straighten his knee.

His toes pointed on instinct. "Like that," she said, tapping the bone of his ankle. "You don't need to hold it to where it hurts. Relax. Yes, more."

This couldn't be the world's weirdest stretching session, could it? No. Yuri knew it wasn't going to just be that.

Lilia's hand dropped down – up – his thigh again, around the curve of his ass, and came to a stop between his legs. Yuri felt his muscles tensing. "I am going to put my fingers in you," she said in his ear.

"And?" Yuri blurted. There had to be something else, too. Was she going to fuck him? Make him finger her at the same time?

"And?" Lilia repeated, sounding – for the first time that Yuri could remember – confused. " _And_ you will remain in this position, and I will continue to touch you until you orgasm. If it hurts, tell me."

"Oh," said Yuri. He didn't get what this was even pretending to teach him, but – he was already here, and the other stuff might be working, and this was _definitely_ not the time of year to tick Lilia off, so. He didn't want to get off on her touch, but it wasn't the worst thing she could have demanded from him. All he had to do was lay here and not let his knee bend too much, right?

The thing she'd picked up, Yuri figured, was a container of lubricant, when he heard her fiddling with something behind him before putting it back. She reached around him with one arm, pulling him against her, and dipped the other between his legs. "Relax," she said again.

Yuri tried. It was not the most amenable position for relaxing, but a few deep breaths and the image of what JJ's face would look like when Yuri beat him at the GPF helped.

Lilia started with one fingers. It was unpleasant, but only because Yuri didn't want it there. She had small hands and slender fingers, so it wasn't that bad, and he'd put fingers in himself before. He could take this, easy.

She moved the finger a bit as Yuri forced himself to relax further around it, before putting in another. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"I'm fine." His leg was fine, too. This was okay. Relatively speaking, anyway. Whatever she wanted him to get from this, he could breeze through it, he was sure of it now.

She started to move both of them in and out of him, rubbing against his prostate with each thrust. The feeling had Yuri squirming after just a couple of minutes, fighting to keep his held leg straight and next to his ear, and his cock was definitely paying attention.

Lilia started talking about strength. Great, another one of these lectures. Even if Yuri had wanted to listen, it would have been made a difficult task with her hand moving in and out of him on a steady rhythm, each movement smooth and controlled. And he probably had heard most of what she was saying already. Blah blah strength was important blah blah foundation of beauty blah blah be a strong one blah blah mental strength was good too, on and on.

She paused for a moment to readjust her own position, leaving Yuri with just the sound of his own gasping breaths to listen to while she settled back down behind him. "Sometimes," she said, using her free hand to correct his ankle while the other burrowed back inside Yuri, "I wonder if I should quiz you. I don't know if you're listening."

"Strong people are those who can remake themselves whenever they need to," said Yuri, reaching for something he half-remembered her saying. "Weak people, are – are." He had to turned his head into the pillow to muffle a swear as her fingers rubbed just right inside of him. His cheeks were so hot, and so was his cock. "Um, are ones who – who cling to their preconceptions and refuse to change?"

"So some of it is filtering in there," said Lilia, and she rewarded him with a third finger, which made him gasp again and bend at the waist. She had to straighten him out. The pressure inside him now was – it was a good amount. It felt _really_ nice. Why did this, of all things, have to feel like that? "I know you are strong already – it takes strength to move away from your family to pursue a dream so young, and it takes strength to earnestly chase the legacy of someone like Vitya. It took strength to win the competitions you have already won. Now you are at a level of competition where you need even more."

"I'll make it," he said, clutching at the sheets with the hand supporting him.

"I'm sure you will," she said, and despite what she was doing to him, it was satisfying to hear that she had faith in him, though Yuri knew she wouldn't have started coaching him if she didn't. If only she didn't demand things like this from him. He would have rather spent an entire day in her studio.

But god, it did feel good. When her hand suddenly withdrew from him, Yuri found he'd closed his eyes and blinked them open. He felt strangely empty as she shifted behind him again. Her other arm wrapped around him, and – oh, that was her other hand. Her wrist must've been sore or whatever. (Not that Lilia ever seemed like she experienced pain. She stretched like she was still a dancer, opened her own jars, and could take stairs faster than Yuri when she was in a hurry.)

She started fingering him again, and Yuri's thoughts blipped out. Lilia was really good at this; Yuri had to dig his fingernails into his ankle to remind himself to keep holding it, despite the slight ache of it now, and he bit his hand when she rubbed that spot inside him _perfectly_. Sparks danced in his eyes.

"Don't," Lilia said, reaching for his hand. He let her ease it out of his mouth before she returned to her lecture.

He was getting close, now. God, he wanted to come already, done with the flow of words about tenacity, or whatever it was that she was saying now.

Yuri started to reach for his cock, ready to be finished, but Lilia snatched his hand before he'd gotten halfway there. "You will not touch yourself," she scolded, putting it back near his chin, where he twisted it in the blankets. "You may only come from my fingers."

Oh, so _that_ was the fucking catch. She could have _said_.

Yuri had never done that before – he'd always touched his cock, too, and done other things that felt good – but he could endure it, as tantalizing as it was to be on the edge like this, hips involuntarily rocking to try to get more. He let out a shuddering breath and readjusted his grip on his leg.

Lilia's hand didn't stop, or change speed as it kept driving into him. Her words did slow down a little, though Yuri still wasn't really listening. He was too busy trying to think himself over the edge, but thought was hard. He tried squeezing her fingers inside of him – kind of difficult with his leg held up, but he managed something, and it kind of helped, but not enough.

Just a little more. A little more stimulation, a little more of that burning pleasure, and he could come and this would be over, that was all it would take. He bit his lip, shuddering on another press from Lilia's fingers. He was so close. Almost, almost there....

But there wasn't much he could do, he didn't think, except take her fingers, let her keep touching him, driving him just that much higher. It was driving him crazy, wriggling against her, pinpricks of pain flaring in his ankle from how hard he had to hold it now. He breathed harder, too hot, too close.

Not close enough, though. A little more – and there, there it was, another good movement from her fingers, _come on already_ _—_

When he came, it was almost more of a relief than a pleasure, and it left him useless. Yuri shuddered through the bright pleasure, and by the time it had faded, he was a puddle on the blankets, unable to move for a minute.

He eventually opened his eyes at a strange touch on his face. It was just a washcloth, Lilia peering at him from above. She wiped off his face, then his limbs and stomach and between his legs, the touch gentle and thorough. Yuri didn't feel like protesting it.

He didn't feel like moving at all until she was done, and he could find the energy to sit up again.

Lilia let him take his time with dressing, and she smoothed his hair down for him before he left. He stood in her beautiful, expensive-looking hallway and thought about taking a shower. His legs still felt weak. He went to his room and played video games until dinner instead.

Later that week, at the GPF, he won gold. Over Yuuri and all his stamina. Over JJ.

Maybe it did work.

The next time Lilia showed up in his doorway after dinner, Yuri put his phone down. He remembered the other times, but it would only be a couple of hours, and Nationals were starting in a few days. Victor would be there. Georgi had suddenly started skating better than he had in a couple of seasons. Yuri didn't want to lose.


End file.
